


Rock Music Fucks Us All

by Moriartsey (arainbowpenguin)



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Badly written porn, I hardly even speak Spanish so I probably fucked it up, M/M, Porny porn porn porn!!, Whatever it's pron, and spiders, at least I think so, gratuitous Spanish, some spidereyness, sorry - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-12
Updated: 2013-10-12
Packaged: 2017-12-29 04:34:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1000951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arainbowpenguin/pseuds/Moriartsey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Carlos loves his rock music, and he loves it loud. Cecil’s never really understood the draw to it, but he finds it… stimulating. Shenanigans happen.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rock Music Fucks Us All

**Author's Note:**

> (god damn I suck at titles and summaries)  
> (Cecil isn't human so he can self-lubricate if I waNT him tO)  
> (I had my own spider friend in the kitchen for a while and she got written in and Night Vale-ified)  
> (I miss her)  
> (I'll link the track list here too for your listening pleasure)  
> (crank it up as high as you can possibly stand it it lends a real air of authenticity to it all)  
> (I'm sorry the first one is Motley Crue you better x out now)  
> [Motley Crue; Girls, Girls, Girls](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aIM4gmho8P0)  
> [ZZ Top; Sharp Dressed Man](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7wRHBLwpASw)  
> [AC/DC; Shoot to Thrill](http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RCqEkWY8ekQ)  
> (they all link to youtube now go knock yourself out)  
> (I have a [tumblr](http://moriartsey.tumblr.com) too but it's awful oop)  
> (I HAD TO EDIT THE LINK BECAUSE I FUCKED UP MY SONG LIST I M SORR Y I FA ILED)

Cecil had been standing in the kitchen watching a spider for a good fifteen minutes before he realized what he was doing. The spider was building a web, to be fair, and it was mesmerizing, watching her go around in circles, not daring to break the tiny thread. The spider was gorgeous as well, brown with black and purple markings, nicely chubby. Occasionally, Cecil would whisper her a compliment, and in return, she would rear up and wiggle her front legs. She was completely adorable and Cecil needed to ask Carlos to leave her there. He knew the scientist would complain, as she was right above the cutting board, but Cecil absolutely loved her.  
Where was Carlos, anyways? Cecil hadn’t seen him for a good hour, and he usually came out at least every half-hour to get a drink and make sure everything was functioning properly. Cecil left the spider (after waving goodbye, of course) and made his way down into the basement of Carlos’ tiny house, which was where Carlos usually did his experiments. When he opened the door, the wave of sound hit him in the face. He could almost feel wind brushing his hair, and he blinked a few times. Carlos had his music cranked up to almost ear-shattering volume, and it was that weird kind he liked as well, where the people screamed and the guitars were unreasonably high-pitched. The singer wasn’t screaming this time, but he was singing about girls. Apparently, Girls, Girls, Girls. Dancing somewhere. It was weird, and Cecil shuddered inwardly. The sound was practically physical, cocooning him in itself and blocking everything else out. Carlos was standing at his table, hunched back to Cecil. His head was bobbing unsettlingly to the beat of the drums. Cecil inched over to where Carlos was standing and tentatively tapped him on the shoulder. It snapped Carlos out of some sort of trance, and he looked at the blond and smiled.  
“Ahh, Cecil, querido. Hi.”  
“Hello, Carlos.” Cecil leaned on the table, narrowly missing putting his palm into a blue, quivering substance.  
“Why are you down here? Is there something wrong?”  
“No, I just wanted to make sure you weren’t in trouble.”  
Half of their communication was lip-reading. The music was like a muffler, and it let Cecil focus on other things, such as the fact that there was a bit of sweat on Carlos’ collarbone, and the air smelled smoky with a hint of cologne, and it was unreasonably hot in here. Carlos was smirking, and the music had changed to someone talking about suits. As Carlos mouthed the next line of the song, ‘’Cause every girl’s crazy ‘bout a Sharp Dressed Man’, he dragged his eyes over Cecil’s body, and the reporter felt a surge in his chest. He’d still been wearing his work clothes, which were not shabby, to say the least. Carlos stepped distinctly into his personal space, still smirking, and it took all of Cecil’s will to keep himself contained. His tattoos were wriggling fiercely, and when Carlos closed the lab door, it did not help his urge to rip all of his clothes off. Carlos returned to him, now grinning toothily, and took ahold of Cecil’s tie. He sat down in his lab chair, which was an old, shitty thing, but still remarkably sturdy for its age, and pulled Cecil onto his lap.  
“Come on, querido. You shouldn’t have these on.”  
The music pounded through Cecil’s chest, making him feel rather dizzy. It was overwhelming, and the energy was incredibly high. Apparently so high that it blew Cecil’s vest and shirt off. Carlos pressed his lips to Cecil’s side and the blond moaned, back arched, nearly throwing them off-balance. Cecil stood, threw his pants and undershorts off to the side in a practiced motion, and turned back to Carlos, who had draped his coat and shirt over the back of the chair. He gladly deprived Carlos of his own trousers and climbed back onto the brunet’s lap, pinning the warm, bronze chest against the back of the chair. Carlos dug his cock out from his underpants and ran the head along Cecil’s perineum, making the newscaster yelp and dig his nails into dark shoulders. They panted for a moment, frozen, and Cecil slowly lowered his body down, pressing the head of Carlos’ dick against his hole and making him whine with need. Not far into their relationship, they had both realized that things would be much easier if Cecil self-lubricated, and now he stayed that way all the time. It made it very easy for him to just sit down and take Carlos to the hilt. They weren’t the most comfortable they’d ever been, and Carlos had to rather awkwardly grip the back of Cecil’s thighs to keep him steady, as the blond had his legs folded under him, but neither of them cared. All that mattered was them, the tightness of Cecil’s wonderful body, the fullness of Carlos’ beautiful cock, and the music. It invaded their bones, connected them in a way they’d never been connected before. Also, you could moan all you wanted and nobody could hear, so moan Cecil did. He bit down on his fingers and choked back a yell as Carlos snapped his hips up to meet a particularly vicious thrust downward. The music had changed again, and now it was a man with a wonderfully raspy voice, talking about going down, down, down, and that’s exactly what Cecil was doing, one hand pressed against his mouth to stop the noise. His tentacles were out and wrapped around Carlos’ chest and arms, one of the smaller ones gripping Cecil’s own cock in a wonderfully strong grip. Carlos was talking, and Cecil leaned down to hear him.  
“Ah, ah, God… rapido, rapido, Cecil, por favor… Ahh, fuck!”  
Cecil only caught those last two words from the movement of his lips, as he arched his back again to properly take Carlos’ thrusts. There was nothing but the sensation and the sound, and Cecil began to sob, overwhelmed by everything. When Carlos leaned forward and bit his collarbone he shattered into a million pieces and screamed. He screamed and was taken apart, veins on fire. When the flames had receded, he dropped his head onto Carlos’ shoulder and let out a choked sob. Carlos, who had met his own demise in that moment, reached back for a small black remote and turned off the music. The silence was sudden and sterile, broken only by small, rough sobs and heavy breathing. And gently, ever so gently, Carlos leaned forward and let himself and Cecil fall out of the chair, depositing the blond safely on the ground.  
“Oh, oh Cecil, queirdo. What’s wrong?”  
“N-nothing. I’m okay.”  
“Good. Oh Cecil. Te amo.” Carlos kissed him gently, and Cecil shivered.  
“I suppose we should get you off the floor, hm?”  
Cecil nodded, and Carlos stood, pulling on his jeans and draping his lab coat over Cecil’s shoulders. Then he eased his arms under the slender man’s body and picked Cecil up. The newscaster squealed happily and buried his head in Carlos’ shoulder. He ported Cecil upstairs, and as they passed by the kitchen, Cecil let out a startled “Oh!” and Carlos froze.  
“There’s a spider making her web above the cutting board. She’s absolutely gorgeous.”  
Cecil climbed out of his boyfriend’s arms and guided him over to where the spider had made her home, large and resplendent.  
“I don’t know if we can keep her here, Cecil.”  
A faint frown line appeared between his eyebrows.  
“But I can make her a new home, if you want. I know a few people who are very good with arachnids.”  
“Oh, yes! Yes, please. Oh Carlos.” Cecil threw his arms around the mocha shoulders and gave him a sound kiss on the cheek.  
“I love you.”  
“I love you too, my darling.” Carlos smiled, looking at his partially-clothed lover, radiant with the post-sex afterglow and excitement bubbling over about a spider.  
“I love you too.”


End file.
